Why hello there Mrs Dogood!
by TardisDragon211B
Summary: The Doctor is depressed from losing yet another companion. Who better to help him with his problems than Silence Dogood? Rated T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**The Doctor is depressed from losing yet another companion. Who better to help him with his problems than Silence Dogood? **

**This is my first Doctor Who attempt. I hope you like it. It's goanna be a two-part story.**

**This is the tenth doctor by the way. And it is right after he leaves Martha but before the Titanic Christmas episode. Pretend instead of the ship crashing into the TARDIS when he walks in he goes somewhere first.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Doctor, Doctor Who, or BBC. **

The hum of the TARDIS creaked until the sound vanished all together. Soon everything became still. Everything became quiet. Silence. His world was silent. He was alone once more. He didn't even know where he was.

The spiky styled, brunette hair moved with the man's head as he looked towards the monitor. The dark outline of brick was all he saw. He turned a gage to get a different view. The same image appeared on the other two sides of his ship, including the door, but on the third side there was a dark, wooden door. Of course the door would be on the side opposite to the TARDIS' door. He rolled his eyes, annoyed.

He walked slowly over to the controls, and laid his hands on the metal handle of the lever. He should leave this place, wherever or whenever he was. He didn't want to be around anything or anyone. Maybe he'd just go float around in space for a few hours to collect his thoughts.

No he needed to do something. He had to keep moving. He needed to find something that could keep him occupied until he could find someone else to befriend. Someone else to loose. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

He sighed and looked back at the monitor. But what could he do in a closet?

Maybe he should search for excitement somewhere else. Like Yugon, the planet where the men had three heads and the women four arms. Such a lovely people that lot. Or maybe he'd visit his old friend Peter. Perhaps not. He did have a tight schedule, running a religion and all. Perhaps go on a tour of the midnight planet. He'd always wanted to. He looked over at the screen.

The door was a normal wooden door. There was bound to be something behind it. He looked back at his controls.

"Aw, the heck with it," he shouted as he slammed the lever down, and the grinding buzz started up.

When the TARDIS landed the blue doors were facing the wooden one.

The Doctor slowly pulled open the TARDIS doors. He didn't know what lay beyond that door. He moved his hand, finding the antique metal handle to go down opening the unlocked door. Slowly he pushed his head out of the door way and peeked around. Seeing no one around he closed the TARDIS doors and the wooden door behind him, then took a few steps towards the middle of the room.

The room was brick, like the walls that had encased his ship, with a wooden floor. Wooden chairs were put on a green oval rug of to the right side of the room. A small stone fireplace heated the area. In the corner to his right a short bed was accompanied by a wooden nightstand. An unlit candle sat on top of the small table. On the wall next to the bed a window let the morning light shine in. He was on the second or third floor judging by the view of the rooftops he saw through the window. A wardrobe's, on the other side of the room, door was left ajar leaving the brown sleeve of an overcoat sticking out.

"Mid-1760's," he whispered under his breath. "The colonies by the look of it."

The room did not have the usual smell of horse that typical colonial homes had. Instead it smelled more like perfume. French, perhaps German in origin.

He walked over to the old-fashioned desk that had papers sprawled over it. On top was a printed newspaper dated May 4, 1766. Underneath was a bold headline but he ignored it. He knew it would be something that had to do with the tax increase. He wasn't interested in the boring part of politics at the moment. He moved on to another paper.

It was a letter. Written in a woman's handwriting and scented, though the smell was not as appealing as the aroma that filled the room. He pulled out his glasses and read the letter. It was signed by a woman named Cosette.

"A thank you letter, from a French girl," he said out loud to no one.

He looked down at the other papers. More letters handwritten and scented, signed by more French women. Elice, Renee, Patrice, the list went on.

Among the mess there were tax reports and a business log. He read through them as well. He was looking through a trade agreement when something next to the door, which led to some unknown place, caught his eye. It was a piece of paper crumpled up into a ball, and by its state had been stepped on and shoved forgotten up against the wall's edge.

He walked over and picked it up, unwrinkling it as best as he could. He stretched his arms out to get a better view of the scribbled lines. They formed a design, the blueprints to what seemed to be a glass armonica.

Suddenly the doorknob of the door he was standing a few feet in front of started rattling as the person on the other side had trouble opening it. As it finally swung open the Doctor turned his puzzled face away from the paper in his extended arms to look at the newcomer.

"Confounded door… must fix it one of these days," a voice mumbled as he entered the room.

The Doctor's eyes widened.

The short, slightly older gentleman who had walked in, eyes glued to a paper he was reading in his hand, stopped when he saw the converse sneakers and pin-stripped pants of the Time Lord blocking his path to the desk. He slowly looked up, his long graying hair falling behind his shoulders as he did so. The Doctor kept his surprise look.

Standing before him was one of United States founding fathers.

One of the most credited inventors in Earth's history.

Standing before him was Benjamin Franklin.

And he was stark naked.

**A/N: The second part will be up soon. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter: 2

**So part two. The end. Woo!**

**Sorry about the obscure historical references, but I think you can get it without knowing what they are.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or Ben Franklin…does anyone own Ben Franklin?**

**That one guy: I got a $100 bill.**

**-.- be quiet that guy. No one likes you.**

**Thanks for reading :)**

For a moment neither of the two men moved. They only stared at each others' equally shocked faces.

That moment quickly passed when the severe awkwardness of the situation crept to the Doctor's realization. His mouth formed a hard, emotionless line.

He quickly turned his head to the suddenly interesting fireplace and spoke to the Founding Father of the United States from there.

"I should go," the Doctor stated turning on his heels, avoiding eye contact with the nude scientist. He began walking towards the closet, to make his leave, but stopped when the pure excitement of meeting such a brilliant mind caught up with him. It was for that reason he swiftly turned and walked right back to his original spot, sporting a wide grin of admiration on his face.

"I'm sorry," he paused and took hold of the man's hand, giving him a firm hand shake and looking him straight in the eyes. "I just have to say I'm a big fan, a huge fan of your work."

For a moment Benjamin Franklin didn't know how to respond. He had just come up into his room, it was the time of the day he spent taking what he called 'wind-baths' in order to air himself out a bit, when he came upon a strange man. Said man stated he must take his leave then proceed to walk towards the tiny space of a room he used for storage, as if there was a form of exit to be found in there. Now the crazed soul was shaking his hand and complementing him on his work. What else could he do but respond with gratitude?

"W-why thank you lad," Ben said in response. With a smile and a nod of his head, the crazy intruder let go of his hands and turned back towards the small room's door.

Part of Ben wanted to see what the man was going to do next, but another part of him saw something in those smiling eyes. What it was, he really didn't know, but there was something there that was faltering in the man's mind. This is why Ben tried to stop him.

"May I ask why you are in my house?" Ben almost shouted just as the Doctor reached for the door handle. The man in the brown suit turned back around and tilted his head to the left.

If the Doctor was honest with himself he didn't quite know himself. He had just pulled the lever and the TARDIS went.

"At least tell me how you got in here?" Ben continued.

The doctor straightened his head out and looked at Ben sadly. How had he got in here? Got in this situation once more, friendless, alone and lost for something to fill the void of his existence. Because that was what it was, his existence. It was a void, a large rift of nothingness ever since the day he destroyed his planet, his people, and the void had been growing with every person he lost. Sarah. Rose. Martha. The list was endless.

"Just got a little lost," the Doctor said sadly, his eyes looking towards the floor, lost in his thoughts.

When the Doctor looked up he noticed Ben Franklin had moved from his spot to stand by a chair, and was being covered by the chair's solid back. His head was turned in the manor of a dog as he tried to figure out the man before him. When the Doctor turned to leave once more, Ben spoke up again.

"Perhaps you'd like a spot of tea?"

The Doctor paused at the question. His mind was screaming to give the old man a classic 'nah, don't rather fancy it', but he just couldn't. After all that he has been through, he actually did fancy a cup of tea. A bit of the human normalcy he had grown to crave over his many years, even if it was shared with a long-timed dead inventor who had just been standing naked in front of him only a few moments sooner.

That was what led to the two men to be sitting in the chairs of Benjamin Franklin's bedroom. Both fully clothed now, not that the Doctor ever wasn't, and sipping the steaming brown liquid Ben had made a few minutes sooner. They didn't speak though. They only sat, each lost in their own thoughts.

The doctor thinking about what he would do next and Ben trying to figure out whom the Doctor was and what was that glint of something in his eyes. Suddenly that glint washed over the Doctor's face once more when the thought of Martha approached in his mind.

Ben knew what that glint was, he had seen it in the eyes of many men before, but this one was somehow different. He had to figure out how it was different though.

"So who was she?" Ben asked in the most nonchalantly tone he could manage as he brought the teacup to his lips.

"W-what?" the Doctor choked out, glad that he had not been taking a sip of tea at the moment.

"Don't you play dumb with me," Ben scolded, setting his saucer down, the Doctor doing the same. "I know what a man looks like when he's having a problem, especially a problem concerning a woman."

The Doctor chuckled and shook his head as he spoke, "No, no, no it's nothing like-"

"So it's more than one woman?"

That's when the Doctor's jaw dropped and he stared dumbfounded at the profound scientist of the 18th century.

"It's not like that," the Doctor said quietly, his shocked look never leaving his face.

"I see," Ben said with a warily glare. By the look of shock on the other man's face, that wasn't it, but there was still something there. Another moment of pregnant silence filled the air before Ben let out a huff of air and leaned forward. The Doctor's brown eyebrows rose in accordance.

"Look, lad," Ben began, though he knew the man before him was far from a boy, but he somehow seemed so young then in another moment so old. The look in his eyes, beyond that glint, was forever changing between the looks of philosophical wisdom and the ramblings of a frightened child.

"I have seen many people in my travels, have met many women. I have had children, and I have done business and scientific discovery, enough to last four lifetimes," Ben continued. The Doctor stared at him intently as he spoke. "Of all of the days I've spent breathing, there has not one I have loathed more than when I was lost of what to do with myself.

"I was left by my friends, left by my family, left by the women, and by the very businesses and diplomacy I had sworn my life to fulfilling. I was left alone, and judging by that look in your eyes, you are in that same solitary place," Ben said with a pointed look towards the Doctor, who only looked towards the ground in response. Ben leaned closer and the Doctor looked directly into his eyes.

"Take it from me, lad, get out of there fast. Because the sooner you leave that place, the sooner you realize that it wasn't the loneliness keeping you there. It was your own thick headiness."

The Doctor looked into the all-knowing stare of Benjamin Franklin, and sighed.

"I best be leaving," the Doctor said with a small, solemn smile. Ben leaned back in his chair and looked up at the taller, standing man.

"Very, well. Just remember what I've said today," the old man said linking his fingers to overlap and rest on his rather large stomach.

The Doctor nodded, and walked towards the closet. He opened the door, not seeing the look of surprise on Ben Franklin's face at the sight of the blue box. He entered the TARDIS, and stopped at the control consol.

Suddenly he smiled a smile, not very large or bright, but a smile, and one of the first to actually reach his eyes in a long while.

"Allons-y," he whispered to himself and flipped the switch.

The grinding noise that came from behind the door wasn't like anything Ben had ever heard. He swiftly opened the door once the noise stopped; expecting to find the blue box, perhaps even the man in the strange brown suit, but there was nothing in the tiny room at all. None of the interior had been messed with; it was as if nothing had ever been there. As if the man and the box had never existed.

He shot his hand up to his receding hair line, and grunted from the pain of the headache forming at the front of his skull.

"I have to stop drinking this early in the morning," he whispered to the empty room.


End file.
